


Life and Death at Someplace, Somewhere

by AntaresNull



Category: Original Work
Genre: Afterlife, Death, Gen, Life Partners, Minor Character Death, Partnership, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Slice of Life, i don't think they are in love, it's probably rude to ask or assume, life - Freeform, psychopomp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 13:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16064453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntaresNull/pseuds/AntaresNull
Summary: Neither of them can ever really remember where they are, just that they simply are. One goes and the other follows. As it has been, as it shall be.





	1. Pie and Wildfire

There was nothing unique or dreadfully special about the house located at 214 South River Avenue. It belonged to the Carter family of four, recently turned family of five with addition of little baby James.

James did not know much of the world being that he was only three days old. But he knew a few tricks already. He knew if he cried loudly in the night that he would be picked up and rocked back to sleep. He knew if he whined long enough he would be fed. He knew that giggling caused people to smile and laugh, which is precisely what the young woman leaning over the edge of his crib did.

"Aww, lookit the bay-bee!" she squealed, golden eyes gleaming as she tickled under his chin gently. James bubbled happily.

For all the ways the Carter house was normal and horrendously boring, this woman was not and she knew it. The parental units would have disapproved of both her clothing choices and her hair color, though their young daughter would have thought she was cool and their teen son would have passed out from lack of blood to the head.

She did not care, however. She liked her shaggy emerald hair, it reminded her of fresh Spring saplings. And typically she considered clothing a hinderance, though she liked to dress up every now and then in something light and airy like her current bikini top and biker shorts.

"Whosacutiebaby?  _Whosacutiebaby_?" she babbled, relishing in the returned cooing and giggles.

The Carter parental units shifted in their bed across the room, oblivious to the stranger in their home. The woman, satisfied with her interactive baby time, gently stroked a soft little baby face. James, who had been enjoying the attention, was immediately overwhelmed with the realization that it was three in the morning and that he was incredibly tired. There was a busy day ahead of him full of squalling and breast milk. He yawned, eliciting another squeal from his green-haired admirer, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

The woman turned smartly on her heel to face the parental bed.

"You two cherish that little bundle of chubby! He is  _love_!" she yelled, stamping her foot for emphasis.

Mother Carter snored. Father Carter passed gas.

The woman nodded once firmly, considering the matter settled and retreated back into the hallway. She had been drawn by little baby James, the newborn life force far too tempting to not come and visit. Her first instinct upon bumping into someone in the hall was to jump into battle mode, ready to bodyslam whatever motherlover it was. No one should have been able to bump into her.

"Dee?" she asked, lowering her Daniel-san Crane stance. The tall woman in the black suit nearly blended into the shadows of the hall, appearing almost as a floating head with a meticulously gathered ponytail of blonde, nearly-bone white, hair high on the back of her head that threatened to trail the ground regardless. Dee inclined her head slightly in greeting, blue eyes glowing like ghost fire.

"Elle," she replied tonelessly.

"Ohmigawd, what are you doing here?" Elle asked, enthused to see her other half, slugging her on the shoulder. Dee did not flinch at the blow, indeed not moving at all. She tilted her head toward the door at the end of the hall.

"Grandfather Carter; he dies today," she replied, her ever-present frown deepening slightly. "I removed his pain."

Elle winced. So distracted she had been by baby James, she did not notice the the cancer patient withering away just a couple rooms over.

"Ouch, that's rough." Elle glanced over her shoulder to the door where the little bundle of joy rested. "I hope he gets to hold the baby before he goes." Dee shrugged.

"Perhaps."

Elle shifted from one foot to the other, smiling widely, content to simply be. Dee stared impassively, hands in her pockets as she observed the wild child before her.

"So, hey, listen," Elle began after their impromptu staring contest, directing Dee's gaze with a point over her shoulder, "There's this really great pie joint a couple streets over. Wanna go get breakfast?" she asked with an excited bounce. Dee consulted a silver pocket watch from within her jacket.

"Pie for breakfast? And at three in the morning? No. Maybe after sun up. I have somewhere to be," she replied. Elle only showed a few more molars in return.

"Great! I'll tag along and we can go after your thing."

"Suit yourself," Dee said with another shrug, turning and passing through the walls of the Carter home with Elle in tow. High above, the moon glowed etheric, bathing the little coastal town of Someplace, Somewhere in silver. Dee and Elle walked through the air, taking single steps but traveling yards with each.

"So, where we goin'?" Elle asked excitedly wringing her hands. Dee pointed up and ahead at the molehill of a mountain before them, just on the outside of town, indicating some point about halfway up. Elle gasped, eyes going wide with joy. She had loved making this little hill; it had taken millions of years worth of planning, but it had been worth it.. The grade wasn't too steep so it was good for simply walking the winding trails circling it. The trees that grew on the hillside made a small little forest, but not one that was too close or oppressive. It was the perfect place for camping as everyone had quickly found out thanks to the bald spot on top where the stars were visible for miles around.

Elle found herself taking extra steps ahead of Dee and having to circle back she ws so eager to get there. They glided up the hillside, trees posing no obstacle. They set foot on  _terra firma_ at the crest of the hill and Elle couldn't help a happy little pirouette in the center of the clearing. Dee checked her pocket watch again and frowned at it.

"If you feel like helping," Dee said, closing the watch with a sharp snap, "start gathering up wood and pile it there. We've only got about twenty minutes."

"You got it," Elle grinned, playfully swinging her hip into Dee's before bounding off into the treeline. She couldn't help but have fun as she gathered up every fallen branch and limb she could find, pouncing and tumbling down the side of the hill. She returned fifteen minutes later, smudged with dirt with bits of twig and leaf caught in her hair, but carrying two loads of wood, one under each arm. Dee had already returned and was carefully piling her collected wood beneath the spreading branches of a tall oak. Her suit had remained immaculately clean.

"Buildin' a bonfire?" Elle asked with a confused quirk of an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Elle glanced up at the branches of the oak tree and then back down at Dee.

"Should probably be out from under the branches then, eh?" she asked, depositing her bundles of wood next to Dee anyway. Dee did not answer and began adding Elle's wood to the pile. Five minutes passed in silence as Dee neatly stacked the wood. Elle busied herself by dancing around the clearing, momentarily forgetting her partner as she reveled in the moonlight. Dee stood and dusted her hands once she was done, consulting her watch once more with a satisfied "hmpf."

"All done?" Elle skipped over to Dee and nudging her with an elbow. Dee stretched out her arm, hand hovering over the pile, and snapped her fingers. The wood pile exploded, every individual branch flying through the air and back into the woods. Where the wood had once sat, a hazy outline now hung, shimmering faintly like a heat distortion.

"I am now," Dee said simply. She crossed to the tall oak and sat down with her back against it, pulling her long ponytail over one shoulder. She drew her knees up, legs forming pointed arches, setting elbows on knees, and chin in the palm of one hand. Elle sat down in a neat lotus across from her.

"Now what?" she asked excitedly. Dee turned a halcyon blue eye to her.

"We wait," she said simply. Elle contented herself with the answer, far too elated to be out on such a beautiful night. While they waited, she entertained herself by running her fingers over the grass, changing color and length to act as makeshift paint. She proudly showed Dee the little cartoon skull with the flower sprouting from one socket. Dee hummed an acknowledgment and went back to staring at nothing.

They did not have to wait long until the sounds of conversation drifted through the trees. Elle wiped her horticultural experiment away before the first of the teenagers wandered into view. She felt a quiet thrill. Young rebellion was such a quintessential thing. The small group of four, two boys and two girls, scouted the area briefly, none of them noting the two already inhabiting the clearing. One stood directly in the middle of the heat haze that had been Dee's wood pile and declared it to be a good enough spot before directing the others to gather wood. In a very short while, they had perfectly replicated the heat haze, the wood they had gathered dispelling the shimmering illusion.

"Lookit, Dee! They brought stuff for s'mores!" Elle said happily, grabbing Dee's shin and shaking it excitedly. Dee watched them, eyes unreadable.

The fire crackled to life almost as soon as they had struck the match, casting a warm glow around the clearing, turning the leaves above them a flickering orange. Elle was beside herself as conversation flowed and marshmallows melted on skewers. Youth and life flowed around the fire and filled her with total joy.

"Ah, young love. So good for the heart!" Elle cooed as kisses were shared and pairs were formed to drift in opposite directions with blankets in tow.

Dee watched the fire burn.

"How irresponsible," she sighed and snapped her fingers again. The center of the bonfire cracked and collapsed, a cloud of embers drifting up on a breath of smoke. Elle watched, the bottom of her stomach falling out as the embers reached the leaves of the oak tree above.

"So, that's why you had to be here, huh?" she asked Dee sadly. Dee stood, straightening her jacket, watch in hand. Elle caught a glimpse of the face, the countdown ticking down to zero.

"Yeah, that's why." Dee offered Elle her hand and pulled her to her feet. The embers caught quickly, flames forming up above. Mere seconds passed and the oak was left with an angry, golden crown that hungrily lashed out at the surrounding trees.

"They're killing you," Dee said quietly as the fire spread, smoke already threatening to blot out the sky. "They pollute and destroy the world you gave them," she continued when Elle remained silent. The group had caught wind of the fire, crying out to each other even as they sprinted down the hill in opposite directions. "And for what?" The question was not rhetorical.

"It's what they do," Elle said helplessly. Dee shook her head.

"I'm not sure I'll ever understand you, Elle."

The wildfire spread quickly, engulfing half of the hill before the sirens began to sound. Down below, fire fighters from around the county did all they could to contain the blaze. Firelines were gouged deep into the ground as tanks of retardant were thrown into the woods. Water tankers were already in flight, preparing to drop thousands of gallons of water.

Elle sniffled when she felt two of the teens vanish from her senses. They had run in the wrong direction and were caught by the devouring fire. Dee gripped her shoulder, eyes closed as she sensed the two deaths as well.

"I know," she told her partner. Elle leaned into Dee's side, prompting a one-armed hug around the shoulders from the taller woman.

"I hate that you do this," Elle whimpered, watching the fire from their vantage high in the air.

"It was their time," Dee replied, knowing it was no comfort. "They didn't suffer." She hoped that that was a comfort.

The sun was cresting the horizon by the time the fire was contained and high noon was drawing near before it was quenched entirely. On the ground below, people moved cautiously through the charred remains of the woods, dousing any suspect falls of wood with more fire retardant than was necessary.

Elle choked on a sob when the bodies were discovered and the news was relayed, feeling the dismay of the workers and the crowd that had gathered behind the fire teams. Dee took her hand and pulled her along back to the ground.

"Let's go get some pie," she said.

Elle had cheered considerably by the time they reached the little specialized diner and had even cracked a smile as they tucked into twin slices of Key Lime.

"Pie helps, most of the time," Elle sighed, setting her fork on her empty plate. Dee nodded a silent agreement. Her watch was in her hands again, idly turning over and over, eyes tracing the engravings on the outside. Elle eyed the timepiece reproachfully. She reached out and covered it, halting its revolutions.

"Put it away," she begged, "Please?"

Dee looked up, meeting shimmering golden eyes with her own pale blue. She sighed. The countdown had started again; just a couple of hours this time.  _Grandfather Carter_ , she thought, glad she had already consigned the old man his fate _._  The watch vanished from sight and made Elle smile widely. They left money on the table, though none of the diner staff could recall anyone sitting there. The money was dumped into the donations jar intended for the families of the perished teens.

They found themselves on a bench in a small park near the center of the town. An assembly had gathered there, fire fighters instructing concerned citizens on proper fire hazard safety. Elle had been content to simply sit and listen when she heard Dee heave a great sigh.

"I hate that they're afraid of me."

Elle looked over. Dee had hunched forward, shoulders slumped and back bent, head held in her hands. Without a word, Elle pulled Dee down to lay on the bench, cradling her head in her lap.

"You're not scary," Elle said, stroking Dee's hair. "They just don't know you. Not like how I do." Dee frowned at that.

"They want nothing to do with me. I give them every little thing they ever wanted and I'm forgotten like a bad dream after. Some of them are so terrified of me that they want for nothingness rather than confront me. Meanwhile, you give them everything, the good alongside the bad, and they still love you for it." The words poured out faster than Dee could control them, surprised at how much it actually hurt and regretting the bitter edge that crept into her voice. Elle smiled sadly, feeling for her other half.

"Not all of them feel like that. Some of them know that you're just a well-deserved rest at the end of a long day," she said, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. "And sometimes I'm too hard on them. I pile on more than they could ever hope to bear and they're ready to go to you long before they're supposed to," Elle trailed off before quietly adding, "because I broke them."

The two of them lapsed into silence, the fire assembly speakers droned on.

"Regardless, we form a balance," Dee said eventually, disturbing Elle from her revery. "A very necessary one. Without each other, we're nothing." Elle opened her mouth to reply but stopped, struck by a sudden thought.

"I don't think it's that we're nothing without each other," she said slowly. "It's that one of us alone is..." she scrambled, casting about for an appropriate word though Dee beat her to it.

"A plague," she muttered, coming to the same realization.

"Yeah."

Dee sat up with a huff, straightening her ponytail and her jacket.

"Then we should strive to remain together," she said very matter-of-factly. "Forever?" She turned to Elle with a hand held out and a questioningly quirked eyebrow. Elle grinned and swung her hand around to clap sharply into Dee's, gripping it tightly.

"Forever!" Elle chirped, pleased to see the corners of Dee's mouth turn up in a small smile, an all too rare sight in her opinion.


	2. Alone, A Plague (Part 1)

Dee could barely remember the last time she had seen Elle.

The street was quiet and deserted, not even the drone of insects could be heard. Dee stared at her watch. The analog hands were accurate, it was about two in the afternoon even though the sky was dark enough that it could have been closer to midnight. The tiny little flip-panel numbers that helped her track the doomed spun wildly out of control, a pair of them even going in reverse.

She ignored the twitch at the corner of her eye.

As most complicated matters can be, this one traced back to a simple problem. The man had been abused as a child, sadly by multiple people in his own family. Dee had often wondered if Elle ever took the time to consider some of the traits she had given to this species, but felt it more likely she had simply thrown darts at a board. There was no way Elle would have enjoyed what this man had become. Even worse, Dee knew him. She had watched him plummet from a cliff edge to a flooded quarry years ago on a dare from his peers. The impact of the water had knocked him out and left him floating face down with more than a few broken bones.

Dee had watched his life trickle away as his friends scrambled down to him as quickly as they could. Rudimentary and amateurish CPR skills were applied, saving him before his heartbeat petered out. He came back to conciousness crying and choking out lungfuls of water, looking Dee straight in the eye. He had survived, and stared Death in the face.

It had started small; animals, then children before full-grown people were being slaughtered like livestock. Dee repressed a mental shudder at the thought of some of the corpses he had left behind. Elle had wept, of course, as Dee released them from pain and suffering. She was fairly certain it was the body they found hidden in the fresh growth of trees on the hill that she had last seen Elle. The normally bright and chipper woman looking drawn and morose, even surrounded by the burgeoning plant-life. Dee had tried console Elle, but the broken and disjointed words passed her lips anyway and fell like lead weights into Dee's stomach.

"T-they are f-f-forge-ting..."

And they had, Dee noticed. As more deaths cropped up in Someplace, Somewhere, people began keeping to themselves, hoarding secrets and safety the way a miser does his last dime. It had left Dee with very little choice other than to get creative. Statistically speaking, the bathroom is the most dangerous room in the home; slippery tile, potent cleaning chemicals, sharp razors.

Reports of freak accidents began to pile up. A man impaled by a falling ladder, a young child falling from third-story window, a woman suffocated in the night by her own hair. Rumors that the town was cursed were cropping up. Some speculating that it was the fault of the killer on the loose; his fault for bringing such bad luck. Others believed that the angel of death itself had descended upon their quaint little town, reaping evil sowed there long ago. Dee had found it something of a backhanded sentiment that they thought of her as an angel. Angels weren't real; Dee was.

After a while, the town began to empty. Citizens fled in droves; some lead by religious leaders, some driven by paranoia and superstition and the rest simply had the common sense to get away.

And Dee was left alone.

_Almost_  alone, at any rate.

There was a single life left in this ghost town. A single heartbeat that was the exact same as it had been when he almost drowned; skittery, fearful, but excited. The killer had made a name for himself by allowing himself to be seen leaving the scenes of his butchery. Dressed head to toe in black, carrying a long knife curved like the blade of a scythe, and always just yards ahead of the law. The local and surrounding media had labled him " _Death's Shadow_."

Dee had snorted when she heard the moniker; she had no shadow. The closest thing she had to a shadow had green hair and golden eyes, just as Dee served as a shadow in return.

The heartbeat led her to an old church far out on the outskirts of town. The little building was weathered and beaten all to hell and back again; the windows broken out, the door hanging from one sad hinge. The steeple up above had large, threatening cracks in it, ready to snap off and push an unsuspecting victim into the ground. The little graveyard next to it was practically overflowing with tombstones and choking, crushing vines with gnarled trees forming a boundary on the far end. Dee stepped through the rubble and growth easily, not a thorn or bramble snagging as she passed.

It was practically thunder now; the heartbeat a massive drum hammering like the heart of a rabbit facing down a hawk.

The freshly-dug grave at the edge of the cemetary was lit from within, a dark shadow crouched inside, lit by candles at the bottom. Death's Shadow looked up to the edge of the grave where Dee stood, face hidden by a dark ski mask. Dee was not surprised that he could see her; the fervent gleam in his eye testament to his unwavering belief in her.

"The Angel of Death," he breathed, voice trembling in reverence. He threw his arms up and wide. "I am but your humble servant as I have been all these years!" He scrambled up the side of the grave only to fall to his knees before Dee, hands wrung in worship. "I have done so much to meet you again, after so many years when I first saw you in the quarry." Dee felt a curious sensation in the back of her throat, summarily categorizing it as disgust.

"All that you've done?" she asked, feeling something new welling within her. Something that made her want to see red. He nodded firmly, rocking on his haunches as he bowed repeatedly.

"Yes. All for you. Every life spent an offering to your truth and majesty," he gasped out. "You are the one true constant in life itself!"

Dee pulled her watch from her pocket one last time. The flip panels had stopped turning; every one of them reading zero. The time had come. She pulled the chain free, squeezing it tightly in one hand.

"All that you've done?" she asked again, rage boiling in her gut. With a gesture the sniveling creature was on his feet and then his feet left the ground. He flailed his limbs, beating at his own throat as his breath came out in choking gasps. "All that you've done is drive  _her_  away," Dee hissed. Another gesture and his face met the ground; once, twice, resounding cracks echoing across the emptiness of the graveyard. She lifted him up again, blood making the front of his mask glisten. "All of your worthless tribute, all of your pitiful effort, was only to  _piss me off_!"

Dee pitched her watch into the open grave and the Shadow followed it like he had been fired from a cannon. The crunch of his body was muffled by the surrounding dirt, his cries distorted by his broken head. Dee glared down at the insect that didn't even have the decency to lie still and die quietly.

" _Why-y_?" his sobs floated out of the hole. " _I-I wish-sh only t-to serve_!"

"You want to serve me?" Dee asked, the meanest Winter wind far kinder than her voice.

" _Yes-s_!  _An-yth-ing!_ "

"Anything?"

" _Yes_!" he managed as a final, rattling shriek.

"Then perish," Dee uttered and snapped her fingers.

The walls of the grave caved in, closing over the screaming, pitiful mass of wasted skin. Dee could hear him screaming as clearly as if he were screaming in her ear. The noise didn't last long as the dirt settled.

Dee felt his passing and fell to one knee, suddenly overcome with a great weariness. Someplace, Somewhere was empty now. Those that had left still had Dee in the backs of their minds even if they didn't know it, but they were drawing farther and farther away.

"I'm sorry, Elle," Dee muttered, vanishing from sight in the next breath. The silence in the absence of life was deafening; not even the wind was left to howl its sorrow.

* * *

For many years, Somewhere, Someplace remained empty and desolate; even wildlife avoiding such a cursed place.

But as time passed and memory faded, the first of a new generation returned to the little town to bring it back to life. Slowly, but surely, color and sound returned and love and laughter did, too.

Dee did not return, nor did Elle. Those who had believed in them long since dead and gone without passing on the tale.


	3. Nothing but Time

_Always..._

_Always ticking... Always tracking..._

Even though the watch was tucked into her inside pocket, Dee could hear it. The outer case was always cold, no matter how many times it turned over in her hand. She could feel the hands and flip panels and every individual gear click against her ribs. The press was always there, the inexorable march and flow of time that stole every person Elle fought so hard to infuse with life and vigor. Some days it was enough to make her head spin, though she knew she was not capable of anything else.

_Ever flowing... Ever forward..._

_Unstoppable... Inescapable..._

_Always..._

"Feelin' needy?"

Elle's questioning chirp pulled Dee from her revery. The little bus stop bench at the edge of town was deserted save for the two of them, not that their presence counted for much. The day was cloudless; and though it was still early in the morning the sun was already tempering a steady breeze with late Spring warmth. Dee glanced over to find a set of amused golden eyes.

"What?" she asked flatly.

"I asked if you were feelin' needy," Elle said with a pointed glance down.

Dee followed her gaze and found Elle's tanned fingers laced with her own pale ones. Elle likely had not initiated the hand holding, otherwise it would have gone without comment. Dee's thoughts drifted back to her preoccupation with time as she looked down the road and wondered where the bus was. The end of the road leading out of town was lost to fog, thick and completely impenetrable; not that Dee and Ell hadn't tried. The sight of it always left an anxious feeling in Dee's gut.

"A little," Dee replied with a slight squeeze. She did not have to see Elle to know she was grinning, it was in her voice as she lunged forward.

"Then, have more!" she said with a laugh, squeezing harder, throwing her free arm across Dee's ribs like an iron band, and cuddling her cheek against Dee's shoulder. Dee grumbled under her breath, but weathered the assault on her dignity with a brief press of her cheek to the top of Elle's head. "I love when ya aren't a stiff, Dee."

"I have to be, otherwise nothing would get done," Dee muttered, gently prising herself from Elle's grasp and smoothing out the wrinkles in her jacket. Elle smirked and let herself be peeled off.

"Puh- _lease_ , you know ya love-," she cut off, suddenly interested in the road. "Bus! Bus!" she launched from her seat on the bench, bouncing on the spot with an extended finger. " _Busbusbusbusbus!_ " With no disturbance to the fog, the big, white bus had trundled into view. The breaks hissed as it pulled short of the bench and rattled its doors open. A small handful of people hopped off, chattering happily at the beautiful weather, their arms loaded with baskets and blankets and coolers.

"If only we could have stuck around," Elle pouted with a wistful glance over her shoulder as they climbed aboard.

"Some other time, I'm sure," Dee said as they moved to stand at the back of the bus. Elle's sigh said she understood, but didn't like it. Though several people had disembarked for the picnic, the bus was still full of tourists prepared for a relaxing day in their little slice of idyllic town.

Elle listened in on the small talk floating around the shuttle, joyous little butterflies floating around in her belly. Small talk was a good thing. It bridged gaps and led to strangers becoming acquaintances and acquaintances becoming friends. Her own heart fluttered as a young couple in a seat nearby planned their day out, heads together over a map pulled up on a phone screen. And she saw everything in them; the softening of the eyes when they looked at each other, the ease of shoulders in the company of a significant other, the-

"Elle?"

"Yeah?" she asked, looking over. Dee had her watch out again, staring at the small yet omnious thing, her face pensive.

"Can you stop time?" Dee asked slowly, eyebrows furrowing as if her own question confused her. Elle tilted her head, unsure if she should smile or not, unable to tell if Dee was serious.

"Nah, I don't know nothin' about time. That's kinda more your thing, innit?"

Dee chewed the inside of her cheek. She didn't want it to be her thing.

It had been what she would later classify as "a moment of weakness."

The newborn hadn't deserved it and Dee knew the mother hadn't deserved it. The hospital had tried everything when the baby was born with an asphyxia. The machines they had hooked it up to beeped and squealed for three days and two nights as tiny lungs struggled alongside them. The parents had hardly left the room, heads bowed and hands clasped in prayer, as Dee stood in the corner and watched.

It had been a random defect, Dee knew; no fault of the mother or the father in this instance. It was the same reason she had asked Elle to stay away. Elle wouldn't have been able to handle knowing she had been partially responsible; Dee could hardly handle it herself. The suffering, the fear of not knowing, the terror of a hardly-formed life passing too soon from the world was palpable.

On the morning of the third day, Dee had had enough. Her watch said there were three days left of this, but it had already been three days too long. She pushed her hand through the little plastic coffin-in-waiting and sank a single finger into a too tiny chest. The heart monitor had awoken the parents who screamed and sobbed as doctors wheeled the tiny body from view. Dee wanted desperately to cry with them, to feel their pain and console them, to tell them that the suffering was only temporary like everything else.

Instead, she watched. Her face as smooth and impassive as ever even if it felt like her innards were writhing. In the span of a heartbeat, she was on the roof of the hospital, watch torn so violently from her pocket it would have ripped the clothing on anyone else. She held the watch over the edge of the roof, several stories above the concrete below, and let it slip from her fingers. The watch had shined like a star crashing from the heavens, chain trailing like a comets tail.

The watch remained unharmed. Even after Dee caught up to it and swung it violently by its chain into stone walls and metal dumpsters, it remained shiny and undented.

_Always..._

"Dee? Ya okay?"

Elle pulled Dee from her train of thought for the second time in nearly as many minutes. Dee turned to her partner in time to see a large green bubble pop and be drawn back into Elle's mouth. She wasn't sure where Elle had got the bubble gum and wasn't sure she wanted to ask. She sighed and returned the cursed watch to her pocket; there were only a few minutes left.

"I'm fine," she muttered. "I just wish... that things were different, sometimes."

Outside the bus, the picturesque scene of Someplace, Somewhere drifted by. Every few streets the bus would stop, letting a number of people off to explore the little haven. Dee raised her hand, fingers poised to snap, all occupants of the bus unaware of the impending brake failure save for herself and Elle.

"Different how?" Elle asked, eyeing Dee's fingers. The bus went around a corner and the ocean flowed into view. The almost-blindingly white sands were already filling up with people though it was still before noon. Dee snapped her fingers as the bus trundled down the road toward the beach. Down below the twelve tons of steel and glass and rubber, the brake lines burst; the driver none-the-wiser until he pushed the brake pedal all the way to the floor with no resistance.

To his credit, the drivers reactions were speedy and professional. A flick of a switch turned on the exterior hazard lights as he shifted down gear.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm, we are currently experiencing an equipment failure," he said smartly into his little intercom though there was a tremor in his voice. "Please remain in your seats." The occupants of the bus burst into overlapping voices that nearly threatened to drown him out.

"It just gets tiring, all of this," Dee answered with a helpless gesture around the bus as panic welled-up regardless. No one except the driver was due to die today; it made all of the fear she inspired seem unnecessarily torturous and Dee related as much to her partner. The bus began to weave in lane, slowly starting to lose speed; thankfully the road ahead was empty. Elle's golden eyes were sympathetic as she gave Dee a reassuring stroke on the arm.

"You're such a secret sweetheart, ya know?" she asked with a smile. "But what's the point of life without a little danger in it?" She gave a great sweep of her arm as the bus rounded a corner, horn blaring, to run parallel along the beach. Outside, people pointed and shouted, drawing further back on the sidewalk even as the bus passed them by.

"Every person on this bus," she continued, "will get off today and experience one of the most beautiful days of their life knowing they brushed by an accident with no harm and no foul and you helped give them that!" Dee frowned at that; the both of them knew that wasn't true. At the front of the bus, the drivers heart had shot up into overdrive and his breathing became shallow even as the bus began to creep to a stop.

"Not everyone," Dee muttered. The bus shuddered to a full halt, the doors flying open for everyone to disembark. One passenger noticed the driver and stopped beside him.

"You alright?" they heard the voice drift to the back of the bus. The driver had pulled a bottle of pills from some compartment and quickly chewed one.

"I'll be fine," he gasped, mopping at a sweaty brow with his sleeve. The passenger had a phone in his hand in seconds, thumb punching in a few numbers.

"Yes, you will be," he replied firmly as the emergency dispatcher answered him.

Elle and Dee watched the interaction unfold; Elle cheerfully and Dee in confusion. Already his heart rate was slowing to normal. Dee furrowed her brow and slipped her watch from her pocket. To her immense surprise, the countdown was nowhere near zero; instead showing years left as she focused on the driver.

"Gonna be a beautiful day, I think." Elle had leapt to her feet to survey the beach through the window, a wide smile on her face as she turned to haul Dee from her seat and began dragging her off the bus.

"I don't understand," Dee said, giving the watch a shake as if it were playing tricks on her. She failed to notice Elle pass her hand through the drivers chest as they disembarked.

"Sometimes people get lucky, Dee," Elle said once they were outside. An ambulance was already hurtling down the street as the concerned passenger helped the driver sit on the steps of the bus to await the paramedics. The poor man was already looking better as he thanked the passenger. "I mean, no one gets out this alive, but nothing says that their fates are chiseled in stone."

"But, the watch-"

"Hey," Elle interrupted, fists on her hips as she spun back to Dee with an accusatory glare. "Weren't ya just sayin' ya got tired of 'all this' sometimes?"

"Well-"

"Well, crisis averted!" Elle practically sang with sharp spin on one toe. She seized Dee by the hand and refused to divert her course for the sand and water. "Now, come on, there's supposed to be some turtles hatching further down the beach later today and you gotta see it. Baby turtles are so  _cute_!"

Dee sighed through her nose and returned the watch to her pocket. She suspected Elle had something to do with the driver and his suddenly increased time, but she kept the thought to herself. Elle was far too happy and excited for Dee to drag her down with an accusation.

The watch still ticked against her ribs. It was still cold to the touch. It still hung from her like a two-ton weight.

But it didn't bother her, at least not right then. Elle had seen to that.


	4. A Life Spent

It wasn't the last thing James Carter could actually remember, but one of his final memories was of his eldest son, William, asleep in the chair next to his hospital bed. William was a good boy, he wouldn't blame himself for being asleep as his father died. He and his brother and sister had already spent countless hours at their fathers side as the cancer rotted him from the inside out.

James was a bit confused, however, as Charlotte leaned over him. Charlotte had always been quirky, but not enough to bleach her hair and take to wearing suits. He supposed it didn't matter and was only a new development; perhaps it was trendy now. His eyes fluttered shut as his final breath rattled in his throat.

He felt like he had just closed his eyes when he was opening them again. He was outside and almost everyone he had ever known was seated before him in the metal folding chairs he had never liked. He considered having a word with whoever had planned this event, but decided against it when he realized he was blocking the view of his own dead body. He felt slightly foolish after he stepped to the side when he realized it didn't actually matter.

He wondered why Charlotte was standing at the back of the group rather than sitting up front. She stared back at him, hands buried in her jacket pockets. Had there been some sort of falling out? Was that why she was back there? He raked his eyes over the front row and found his children; William and David and... Charlotte? Normal, mousey Charlotte sobbing into a kerchief as her brothers sat stoic with unshed tears in their eyes. He looked back to the pale stranger in the dark suit. Whoever it was, they were walking up to him now.

"Huh, weird," he muttered as his vision went dark again.

* * *

"James William Carter. Jim to friends. Jimmy to wife, Ellen Carter née Harrington. Born July, 1955. Died September, 2021 due to lung cancer. Survived by his children..."

James groggily sat up in the big squishy armchair feeling chagrined that he had dozed off in the middle of some spiel. He wanted to question where he was when he finally looked about, but felt it would have been rude to interupt the pale, blonde woman in the black suit behind the desk.

The forest that surrounded them was suffused with a warm golden light though James could not place the location of the sun through the branches and leaves. A gentle breeze carried through the trees, a curious scent he couldn't quite place trailing alongside it. He studied the desk but found little of interest save for a large silver clock pushed to one side. The woman tapped one, long, shaped nail against the desktop as she rattled off detail after detail from behind a thin pair of reading glasses. She was not dreadfully far into the thick manilla folder she was reading from.

"I'm sorry, but what's going on here?" James asked, throwing caution to the wind when he heard mention of Medieval France. "Who even are you?"

The woman looked up from her explanation that his great-grandparents decision to invest in a fish cannery was directly related to his being born. With a great sigh, she closed the folder and sat back in her own squishy armchair.

"My name is Dee, Mr. Carter," she replied with a voice like settling dust as her tiny reading glasses vanished into thin air. "It was requested of me that I give you extra attention in your transition to your afterlife." She said it so simply and matter-of-factly that James was sure he had misheard.

"My 'afterlife?'"

Dee gave a single nod of her head and pointed at him, through him, from across the desk. James twisted in his chair to take in the thick wall of fog gently roiling behind him. A small stream, hardly deep or wide enough to be more than a spill, seperated the fog from the soft, warm grass threading up between his toes.

"Yes, Mr. Carter. Your afterlife," Dee said patiently, reaching for the folder. "Now, there are details to cover outside of your extended geneaology that, honestly, are more important." When the folder opened, several dozen pages flicked by like a high wind had caught them. "You were a writer," Dee began. With a suddenness that bordered on comedic, a dozen books fell from above James' line of sight, thumping in a neat stack on the corner of Dee's desk. James jumped when the first fell, but stared amazed as they all righted themselves to show him their spines.

Every one of them were his.

Dee slid the top volume from the stack and read the blurb on the back cover.

"Vampires, anthropomorphic rats, a martial-arts expert angel, reality-warping 'magic,'" Dee turned a glance on him that made him shift uncomfortably. "You had an imagination, Mr. Carter." She did not sound impressed or judgmental with her statement, simply factual. She stretched out her hand and snapped her fingers. The gesture made James blink on reflex, in just the split second his eyes were closed, the world had shifted again.

His and Dee's armchairs were now side by side and facing the wall of fog across the tiny little stream, the books piled on a small table between them. Dee snapped her fingers again and the fog began to clear. No, wait; it wasn't clearing, James realized as he squinted through it, it was simply turning translucent. Behind the fog wall was either an entirely new place or a very convincing image of one as the nearly invisible lines of fog waved over it.

The room was very Spartan, decked out in dark wood and little else. The chandelier hanging above threw candleflame that wasn't actually candleflame down on the artists easel and blue-print table and writing desk. Neat stacks of paper stood tall in one corner while an open closet door on the other side revealed a room far bigger than it had any right to be and practically overflowing with any imaginable art supply. The far wall of the room, opposite James and Dee, however, was gone completely; opening up on a blank white void.

"Unlimited creative space," Dee supplied with a wave at the void. "If you could imagine it, Mr. Carter, you can create it. The worlds you have created would no longer be bound in paper and ink, they would be yours to explore and do with as you wished."

James stared, his mouth hung open slightly. This had to be some sort of dream, he thought. But at the same time, he could remember his own death. The slow creep of "The Big C" as it ate him from within, the final shuddering breath as William slept in the chair next to his bed and Dee bent over him.

"So, I really am dead?" he asked with a glance over at Dee. She turned to meet his gaze, opening her mouth to reply, though her eyes flicked up to look at something behind him and someone else beat her to it.

"Yeah, ya really are, sadly. I liked your books," said a new voice as a warm hand clapped him on the shoulder. James looked up and felt like he had taken a double take even though he hadn't looked away. He knew he was staring, he knew his jaw was fully hung open now; he couldn't help it.

"I remember you," he said slowly.

Looking at the young green-haired and golden-eyed woman triggered a flood of memories that would have floored him if he hadn't already been seated. Every single memory of his life came crashing down on him with such a clarity he felt like he was there simply by blinking.

The bright blue Schwinn his parents had given him for his sixth birthday that he prompty crashed into the family Oldsmobile. His first kiss with Maddie Dyers at prom. Meeting Ellen at college, the way she smiled when his voice cracked while asking her out. Every day of their thirty-one years together, the birth of their children, the heartache of losing her to a stroke and wondering how long he would be without her. When his first novel was published, followed by the second and third, then the trilogy and...he could remember every word. Every rewrite, every edit, every single corrected use of an apostrophe.

_A pair of golden eyes that radiated pure joy as they hovered over him in his crib._

James groaned and held his head between his knees.

"When they say 'your life flashes before your eyes,' do they actually mean 'you remember literally everything about your life in roughly two seconds?'" he asked the ground.

"Never heard that before," Elle muttered with a thoughtful cup of her chin. "Dee?"

Dee shrugged.

"Maybe it's 'cuz you're dead that you can remember everything," Elle pondered. "Probably too much strain on your mind when you're alive...or something." Elle pat James on the back of the head briskly. "How's that sound?"

"As likely as anything." James sat up with a sigh. "But who can say? I mean, this could all be some stretched-out hallucination my dying brain is giving me as some sort of final comfort before the empty chasm of death."

"How flattering," Dee muttered under her breath.

Elle flopped down on the ground and stuck her feet in the tiny Styx, the water barely even coming to her ankles. She looked up at James with a wide grin and gestured at the artists wet dream across the way.

"So, whaddya think? It was my suggestion!" she said proudly. "I thought it'd be super neat!"

James stared into the room, his mind millions of miles from it. The moment he understood that he was dead, only one thought had stayed in the forefront of his mind as a lifetime of memories crashed over him. The room on the otherside of the fog faded away and he understood that it had been only an image. Suddenly, he was looking into his own kitchen. William and David and Charlotte sat around the little table there; a tiny thing meant for parties and cups of coffee rather than the grand long table in the dining room. They were still dressed for their fathers funeral, eyes red, though they were laughing as they poured over the open photo album in front of them.

That was what he wanted.

"No." Dee stood and shook her head resolutely, moving to stand in front of him and block his view. "Absolutely not."

Elle looked like she wanted to cry. James looked up into the stern blue stare of Death, heartache tugging in his throat.

"Why not?" he asked simply.

"The dead can not linger on Earth, James," she said softly, addressing him by name for the first time. "It's one thing to be gifted extra time," her eyes darted toward Elle who shifted uncomfortably, "but an entirely different thing to go back completely. It is a violation of the natural order and the consequences would be dire."

James gazed longingly at his children before his head hung once more. He supposed the art room would have to do. Perhaps he could recreate some sort of version of his home and populate it with false images of his family. The thought struck him as incredibly sad; to have a substitute and know that it was a fake. But...it was better than noth-

"Wait! Wait!" Elle cried suddenly, scrambling to her feet. "Dee, c'mere!" She seized Dee by the sleeve and dragged her back behind the desk, hauling down on her shirt collar so that her ear was at lip level. James watched over his shoulder as Elle whispered frantically in Dee's ear, golden eyes shimmering. To say that Dee's face ran a gamut of emotions would have been a gross overstatement. But simply watching her eyebrows knit together and her frown shift by degrees several times was more than James had seen from her before.

Elle had finished her thought and relinquished her grip on Dee's jacket, a wide grin splitting her face. Dee straighted up and squinted at Elle like she were a stain on the carpet that hadn't been there before. With a sigh and a shrug, Dee gestured back toward James with a brief nod.

"James, James, James! Good news!" Elle bounced back toward James, teeth and eyes glittering with joy. She threw one arm around his shoulders and shook him in an exuberant hug. "Dee handles all this afterlife stuff, but I write the rules on Earth, right?" she asked. James had no idea why she was asking him for confirmation, but he went along with it.

"Sure," he replied uncertainly. Elle vaulted the chair arm and landed in James' lap; he was surprised to find there was no weight to her even as she continued to throttle him in a hug.

"So, this is _super_  sketchy, but  _I_  am making an allowance. Just this once, for you!" she said with a winning smile. James furrowed his brow.

"But, she said-" he began, glancing up at Dee who had returned to stand beside them, her face once more impassive. Elle waved her hand impatiently.

" _Bah_! I'm pulling rank!" she declared with a point at Dee, who ignored her. "I say you get to go back as a ghost because that would be super cool and really kinda cute; old man ghost! And you were just awesome! Awesome guy! Awesome dad! Awesome writer! So, I say you go!" she finished with a smooch planted on the side of James' head.

James wondered if he could still feel his heart rising, but that's what he decided it the hopeful feeling in his chest was. Elle stretched one hand toward the view of his kitchen and snapped her fingers. The fog thickened and became opaque once more, roiling and twisting gently in an unfelt breeze.

Elle clambered off of his lap and offered him a hand, hauling him to his feet.

"Just cross the river and step through the fog," Elle instructed, practically bubbling over with excitement. James felt a prickling in his eyes and found it strange that he could still feel the need to weep.

"Thank you," he told Elle and threw his arms around her in an impulsive hug. Elle gasped in pure delight.

" _Ohmigawd_ , this is so much better than an autograph!" she squealed and hugged him back. "Dee, get in on this!"

"No."

" _Dee_!"

"It's alright," James laughed and pulled out of the hug. He turned to his grim afterlife manager with a smile and offered his hand. "Dee," he said cordially. Dee sighed and clasped his hand firmly.

"See you around, James," she said, the faintest touch of a smile on her lips.

James turned to the fog bank, took a deep breath, and with a smile on his face, crossed over the river and vanished.

* * *

James had recieved his wish. Upon arriving back in his home, his first order of business had been to sweep through the kitchen as an errant breeze from the open window. All three of his children cut off mid-laugh and shared a glance before staring around the room. James could no longer laugh, but he could feel the joy reverberate through his ephemeral being as he gusted over the photo album, turning pages with a sudden ferocity. William, David, and Charlotte gasped as the book flipped open, the two pages dominated by two large photos. On the left page, James with a massive smile on his face, shaking hands with his editor; one of the first copies of his first book held triumphantly in the air. And on the right page, he and Ellen on their wedding night, a piece of cake shoved in each others face, both alive in love and joy. The four of them gazed fondly over the pictures and Charlotte hiccupped, half a laugh and half a sob.

And James was happy.

* * *

Elle and Dee watched James vanish into his afterlife, the fog slowly dispersing into nothing. In an instant, they were seated at their corner booth in the diner with the long-lived and forever popular Key Lime.

"Do you think he'll figure it out?" Dee asked eventually between bites of pie. Elle chewed on her fork worriedly.

"I hope not. I mean, it wasn't a terrible idea on his part, but he was worried he wouldn't get it right if he tried to recreate it, them. Maybe since he thinks we threw him a bone, his memories will automatically fill things out so they feel natural." Elle poked gloomily at her pie, though it didn't keep her from eating.

"Do you feel bad about lying?"

Elle let the question sit unanswered for a long time as they finished their pie in silence, normal diner traffic flowing around them without even a glance in their direction. When Elle finally spoke, Dee couldn't help but agree...to an extent.

"Sometimes, it's better to be kissed by a beautiful lie than struck by an ugly truth."

"I'm not ugly."

"Not  _even_  a little."


End file.
